Burning
by walutahanga
Summary: Dom visits Angel Grove and crosses paths with a kindred spirit.


**Burning**

By walutahanga

* * *

**Disclaimer:** The Fast and the Furious and Power Rangers are so not mine. The characters are probably thankful for that.

**Warnings:** Some F-bombs. Um, depiction of illegal street racing?

**Notes:** Crossover between the Fast and the Furious series and Power Rangers. This is set just prior to the first F&F movie, and just after Tommy finishes his stint as Turbo. The timelines don't match at all, but squint and pretend like they do.

* * *

Dom's only in Angel Grove a week. He's there to visit his cousin and check out the local racing scene, and fuck it, he needs some time away from the garage and Vince's constant bitching.

The scene isn't all that impressive on the surface – too many monster attacks and roadblocks – but if you know the right people (and Dom does) there are whole mazes of side streets and alleys abandoned for months and weeks at a time. The racers are predominantly rich white kids, but their money is good and Dom won't no to taking money off stuck up brats with an inflated sense of their own abilities. In LA, they'd have been fleeced long ago.

That said, there are exceptions.

* * *

Dom dismisses Oliver on sight; just another kid out for a thrill in daddy's car. The only thing that makes him stand out is his calm; no terrified thrill for breaking the rules. This might as well be a walk in the park for him and that puts him a mark above the others (noting that the others are a pretty low benchmark in the first place).

Then Dom sees him race, and everything he thought he knew goes out the window, because _damn_ that kid can drive. He's fearless with speed, and handles the car with the hands of an angel. He could make a killing in Race Wars with that young, innocent face.

Dom's cousin says he's a professional racer at the local track;

"Uncle's the owner but the kid's got the talent. Already got sponsors snapping at the bait."

"How old is he?"

"Finished high school last year. Not fair is it."

No, not fair at all. Dom could tell Oliver that street racing isn't worth the risk, that the thrill isn't worth the chance of being caught and kissing your career on the track goodbye.

Stupid damn kid, gambling his life for a game. Dom's got no respect for him at all.

* * *

Oliver drives alone most of the time, though sometimes he's accompanied by a quiet asian boy or a pretty black girl. Dom's cousin says the girl's not his, that there's another in London or Australia somewhere.

"Legs up to here, and the tightest ass you've ever seen. Almost cried when she stopped coming round, though my wallet's a bit heavier for it."

"She good at talking you into betting against the boyfriend?"

"Nah, she's good at talking you into betting against her. She drives too. Total petrol heads, the pair of them."

The asian boy and the black girl drive too, though not as often. The boy's got a smooth touch on the gears and the girl's precision driving is to die for. It's a good thing Dom left Leon behind because Leon would have fallen to his knees and proposed after seeing her drive, and Dom doesn't have any room to hold a wedding in the garage, which is inevitably where Leon would want it to be.

Oliver, though. Oliver lives for the fumes. You can see it in his driving, that reckless abandonment that's bordering on desperation. Dom has to wonder what's burning him up inside that makes him so afraid to stop running.

* * *

Oliver challenges Dom once.

"You drive as well as you watch, tough guy?" He's all white teeth and smooth tanned skin and dark restless eyes looking for something. Tall enough to almost look Dom in the eye, but lean like a runner or swimmer. Dom would be tempted to accept the challenge, but he knows that look all too well.

"Maybe in a few years, Junior," he says easily, and leaves it at that.

* * *

Once there's a monster attack a few blocks away.

There's a mass rush for cars as panicked people take off into the side-streets and alleys. Dom glances back to see Oliver standing beside his car, watching the zords draw closer. The ground is shuddering, and glass is shattering in the buildings around them, but the kid remains where he is, frozen like a sleepwalker.

"Oliver, move!" Dom shouts, and the kid shakes himself out of it, gets into his car and takes off.

Dom doesn't forget the expression he'd glimpsed on the kid's face; it will resurface over the years, the memory turned over and over in his mind like a trick puzzle, a mystery he can't quite solve. That hadn't been terror that made Oliver's eyes wide, his lips slightly parted, body leaning ever so slightly forward as if he just barely restrained himself from taking a step forward.

Not terror, but a deep, fierce yearning.

* * *

Dom goes back to LA the next day.

He never does see Oliver again, though Dom later hears from his cousin when Oliver is arrested for illegal street-racing, and though he's never formally charged, it kills his racing career. The last Dom hears, Oliver has started some course in archaeology or architecture or something and moved away from Angel Grove. He splits with the gorgeous girlfriend, though she stays over in London or Australia or wherever it is, much to the disappointment of Dom's cousin.

Dom thinks about Oliver sometimes, and wonders if he'd found some peace, or if he wakes in the night like Dom, burning alive and nowhere to go. It'd be nice if he did, but Dom doesn't really expect so.

People like them, they never really stop running.


End file.
